Characters: Tracer & open. When/Where: The docks Ratings/Warnings: None
Ships were always female, that was a fact. The ship that had been handed over for Tracer to learn to fly was, without dancing around the fact, a hunk of junk. There was a reason it wasn't currently in use and had been relatively cheap and expendable.
It was an older model M-Ship that had at one point been in some sort of epic space battle, or perhaps simply parked too long in a spaceport that had questionable laws and a lot of scrap dealers. A few panels were markedly different colours (possibly different alloys), a few of the exterior indicator lights had burned out, there was some strange graffiti in an alien language that Tracer couldn't even begin to recognise. The main hatch took at least three attempts to open and finally lowered after a swift kick to the motor. The poor thing had definitely seen better days.
And Tracer loved her.
She jogged around the outside of the ship before leaping into the air, disappearing mid-jump and reappearing a second later landing on the wing as if had been a mere hop. "This is wicked!" She exclaimed, hands in the air. Her voice echoed around the empty ships surrounding hers. This section of the docks was mostly empty. There was no trading to be done here, only long-term parking.